Momentum
by SSBB.Swords
Summary: They had been together since birth, separated by a mere three years. Developing a crush on the older boy was probably inevitable, as was keeping it a secret. However, year after year, he found himself unable to grow out of this 'phase.' With maturation at a standstill, his only option was to move and hope for a positive vector. –Yaoi, Slash: Ike/Marth
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Notes: **__This story started as a daydream. Unfortunately, it's been a few years since I've written for fun, and I don't quite have the hang of it yet._

_**Warnings:**__ Yaoi, shounen-ai, slash, whatever you call it. Don't like, don't read._

_**Pairing(s): **__IkeMarth. Probably other background noise._

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Super Smash Brothers. _

_**Summary: **They had been together since birth, separated by a mere three years. Developing a crush on the older boy was probably inevitable, as was keeping it a secret. However, year after year, he found himself unable to grow out of this 'phase.' With maturation at a standstill, his only option was to move and hope for a positive vector._

* * *

Momentum

By SSBBSwords

* * *

Technically, Ike had known Marth all his life. According to his parents and some photographic evidence, the two of them had met when Ike was only a few weeks old and Marth was about three years old.

They got along as one would expect children of parents who were good friends. In other words, they got along well for the most part. Ike could probably count the times they clashed on one hand.

Apparently Marth gave him the cold shoulder for a good chunk of his first year alive, any time he was crying or fussing. Similarly, he _must_ have pissed Marth off when he threw a block at the older child when he was around two years old.

There was only one other time that Ike knew he had displeased Marth. Marth's parents had picked both of them up from school that day, and with parental instructions to play in the yard until snack was ready, Ike had tackled Marth to the ground. In his defense, he was at the age where rough-housing was fun. In fact, Ike probably would have never outgrown that stage if Marth didn't tell him otherwise.

Having been shoved to the ground and sat on by a kindergartener was unexpected to say the least, but Marth had sat up carefully, grabbed Ike's wrists to still his movements, and spoke calmly, "Stop, that hurts." Ike could remember freezing under the other child's stare. "Don't do this again."

Ike attributed their good relationship to Marth's mild, somewhat conservative personality. Whether or not it was because Marth was older, in Ike's humble opinion, Marth could do no wrong. The older child never got angry at him like his parents sometimes did, and whenever he copied Marth's language or behavior, he tended to get positive feedback from the adults around him.

Therefore, it was no surprise that Ike grew up adoring Marth and spend years trailing after him.

* * *

Ike met Roy sometime during grade school. As classmates and soon-to-be inseparable friends, Ike and Roy had a tendency to get into trouble, simply because Roy had a mischievous streak and curiosity to match. As a result, Ike felt that he always learned a lot from their adventures and enjoyed the refreshing new character in his life.

"Whoa, middle school. Really?" Roy hissed in a fake whisper that carried across the room anyway.

Ike tensed, eyes trained on the subtle uncomfortable shift in Marth's body even though the older student continued to work on homework. "Shhh! Yeah, so what?" He stared at Marth's profile, and watched the other boy leaf through the textbook and copy something down onto his notebook.

"He's so…" Roy scrunched his face and then used his palms to compress his cheeks downward and frowned heavily. "Like this!"

"What's that mean?" Ike whispered back, offended at the strange face his friend was making. He noticed Marth's eyes flicker toward their huddled figures by the door frame. Ike felt the urgent need to leave, and tugged on Roy's sweater. "Hey, let's go."

Roy made a loud noise of protest, but let himself be pulled away, "What's the big idea? You scared of 'im?"

Ike continued to herd Roy until they were both on the front porch. "_No._ I'm not scared. Why would I?"

"He's mean to you?" the redhead offered as a reason.

"Marth is nice," Ike defended, crossing his arms.

"But he doesn't play with us," Roy whined in return, "And he stares at us funny."

"He's…" Ike bit his lip, trying to come up with an excuse. "… Busy. Yeah. He's like mom."

Roy's eyes widened. "A girl?"

"No!" Ike's immediate response came out as a yelp. "What? He's a boy!"

"How's he like mum?" Roy asked childishly. "They don't look alike."

"I don't know," Ike mumbled, "Marth's just… nice," he finished lamely.

His friend just shrugged, dropping the subject as quickly as it had occurred, "If you say so."

* * *

The year rolled around where Marth began attending the high school, while Ike started at the middle school and began to struggle with academics. His report card indicated that he was shy to ask for help. The teachers did not need to know that he had a source of help already.

As he and Roy ran toward the far corner of the field during lunch, the redhead suddenly had an idea. "Let's go to the park today!"

Scuffing his sneakers into the sand of the small softball field, Ike stared downcast, ignoring his untied shoelaces. "I can't. I don't get math."

"You say that _all the time_," Roy accused with an obvious whine in his voice.

Ike frowned. "It's true." He shrugged detachedly and sat down on the nearby bench. "I just need help on homework."

"You can copy mine!" Roy said loudly with a generous smile, bouncing excitedly from his brilliant idea.

"No, thanks," Ike replied politely, bending forward to fix his laces, "Marth can help me at home."

Hours later, with his homework planner, books and subject binders, he waited for the ninth grader to come home from school. About half an apple and a glass of milk later, Ike sat up expectantly as Marth entered with an armful of textbooks and a backpack that still looked too heavy.

Marth paused in the doorway, assessing the situation, before sighing softly. "Ike, I don't have time to teach you your homework every day."

The dreaded day had arrived. Ike bit his lip to prevent dissolving into a complete state of panic, but he could not help sound desperate. "Please. I just… " _need you here? like to see you? _"I pay attention in class, really! Just… if I have questions—I think I get it. You don't have to teach me…" Ike trailed off. What could he say? "Check my work?"

After a pregnant pause, the older boy set down his own schoolwork across from Ike on the table. "That's fine. I won't always be around to help, that's all."

Yes, Ike probably knew this day would arrive. He simply nodded in response and began poring over his math worksheet.

* * *

After understanding why exactly he was feeling upset, Ike learned what it was like to grow apart from someone who was a constant in his life.

What he did not expect was the preoccupation that subsequently followed. He spent the first half of middle school occasionally working on homework with Marth by his side, but soon that faded into seldom seeing the older boy. After-school activities, group projects, and other excuses were referenced, but Ike realized that he, strangely enough, was _okay_ with that, only because he felt increasingly weird when he saw or had a chance of seeing Marth.

It began on a typical afternoon. As he diligently worked on his homework, Ike was startled out of focus when Marth entered the kitchen. All the other boy did was smile and nod a slight greeting before getting a glass of water before he left, just as quickly as he entered, but Ike was stunned speechless. Was it alarming that his first and foremost thought was that Marth was… kind of pretty now? As in the same way that Roy thought that girl in history class was pretty?

From then on, Ike decided it was probably good that he didn't see Marth much anymore. It was rather confusing and embarrassing, especially since he acted less than normal every time he felt that rush of… whatever it was.

Around this time, as if adding insult to injury, those unpleasant events described in that health presentation that he had to attend with his parents at school started making an appearance. As expected, he learned how to deal with these circumstances, and was rather grateful for his parents' advice (and Roy's, in a way) even if the conversations were awkward at the time.

Then came the night that Ike suddenly made the unfortunate connection. Hand wrapped around himself, he was working steadily so that he could release, clean up, and sleep. His mind was working through random arousing visuals (accumulated from pictures and videos), when he automatically settled on the prettiest face he knew. And realized Marth was a boy, which meant he too must complete this act.

The newly created visual caused a blood-rushing difference that was both abrupt and unexpected. His climax was fast and intense. As he returned to his normal senses from the high, he swallowed heavily as he tried to regulate his breathing. It could have just been a fluke. Or a coincidence.

The image lingered easily, and even though he had just finished, the heat began to burn again.

Now he knew why kids at school cursed so much.

* * *

When he reached high school, he learned exactly why Marth was never home. The older student held multiple leadership positions as a senior. If Ike didn't see Marth once a day, he at least heard about Marth once a day. The senior class is hosting this event, water polo had a game after school, permission slips are needed for the 2K walk this weekend, etc.

When they passed each other in the halls or in the quad, Marth would smile and give him a wave. He usually did the same, but once out of eyeshot, he would duck his head down and force himself to think of something else to rid the fluttery feeling. Luckily, Roy never seemed to notice.

Needless to say, when Marth suddenly appeared beside him as he was reading a flyer about football tryouts, Ike thought his heart was about to jump out of his chest and flee the scene. There was then a brief moment where he realized he was now eye-level with the top of Marth's damp head. Oh, water polo practice. Made sense. Ike grimaced when he found himself now struggling to rid the memory of the last time he watched one of Marth's games. Well, he was fine during the game, but when Marth was _out_ of the water before and after, that was a whole different story.

"Interested?" Marth asked with a smile, "I was going to stop by today to ask you about it."

Ike blinked in return. That seemed… odd, right? "Uh, what about?" He nervously ran his hand through his hair, just to have some sort of distraction.

"Nothing much," Marth pulled a small quarter-sheet flyer out of his warm-up jacket pocket to hand to Ike. "I was in the locker room and overheard the football coach and captain talking about recruitment. And I thought of you."

The senior stepped back from the bulletin board and began to move down the hall. _His locker_, Ike's mind automatically provided, and his own feet directed him to follow.

Feeling lost as to the other's reasoning, Ike cautiously asked, "Why's that?"

A thoughtful expression crossed Marth's face. "Well, I suppose multiple people have already asked me. About you, I mean."

The older student might as well been speaking in a different language. "Wha… _why?_"

As if amused by his confusion, Marth laughed quietly, "Have you looked at yourself recently? You have the potential build, for one. And they probably asked me because who else would they ask?"

Maybe _Roy_, but then again, upperclassmen rarely spoke with freshmen. He then wondered if Marth liked a football player's build. That was followed by a mental smack on the back of his head.

"Oh, I see. Yeah, I think I'll try out."

By now, Marth had begun exchanging textbooks between his locker and backpack. "Good. Actually, a bunch of seniors are meeting at my place in an hour. If you're free, I bet the captain would be happy to talk to you."

"I…" Ike was absolutely sure he would mess _something_ up if he were to try and have a conversation with someone else while Marth watched on.

Unaware of Ike's inner anxiety, Marth quickly glanced at the younger student and quirked an eyebrow as he closed his locker. "Are you busy?"

_No._ "Yes." Lying was much easier when the excuse was already set up for him.

"Next time then," the senior responded smoothly and flawlessly switched topics, "Do you want a ride home?"

* * *

Strangely enough, Ike ended up as one of the few people who stayed dry-eyed throughout Marth's graduation and departure to college.

Statistically, Marth was around just as much as he was in high school. At home, that is. The now college student occasionally drove back home for a holiday, and if possible, the homecoming games that Ike played in. Occasionally, albeit rare, Ike would walk past the dining room and notice Marth studying since their families made a point to go out for a meal together when the older one came home.

So when Marth left his heavy genetics textbook at his house, Ike figured the earlier the studious student got the book back, the better.

Knowing where the spare key was from seventeen years of watering Marth's mother's plants when she was away on business trips, Ike let himself in from the back. He planned to drop the book off in the kitchen, since he knew Marth would definitely pass by to see it, but stopped short when he found Marth with company in the living room. A movie was casting a flickering glow in the dark room.

Ike immediately had to remind himself that this was nothing new. Everyone liked Marth; he always had a lot of friends. Sure, the crush was still there, but Ike was neither plagued by jealous thoughts nor had trouble talking to Marth now that he was old enough to gracefully handle most social situations. He would describe his crush on the older boy as… simmering.

With a bit of squinting into the dark, Ike deemed the company male and found himself smiling from relief. If Marth was watching a movie in the dark with a pretty girl, Ike would have immediately gone home to mope. Okay, the simmer was closer to a boil when Marth was around.

"Hey." Ike knocked on the doorway lightly to alert the two of his presence. "You left your book."

"Oh, thanks," Marth replied pleasantly, pausing the movie as he stood to retrieve the object from Ike. "Link, come meet my neighbor, Ike."

As Marth removed the heavy book from his grip, Ike found himself engaged in a strong handshake by an unfamiliar blond.

"Hi, Ike. Good to finally meet you. I heard you had a great season this year," the blond stated congenially.

A sense of wariness began to creep along the edges of his thoughts. Ike nodded in response, "Thanks. The team was great; we worked really hard." Why did he feel off? From those bright blue eyes to that obviously-practiced charming smile…

"Link is my—"

"—boyfriend," the blond interjected with a confident grin.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**__ Oh, I've missed this... apologies for the rough writing! Feedback much appreciated._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Notes: **__Still choppy and un-beta'd._

_**Warnings:**__ Yaoi, shounen-ai, slash, whatever you call it. Don't like, don't read._

_**Pairing(s): **__IkeMarth. Background noise._

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Super Smash Brothers._

_**Summary: **They had been together since birth, separated by a mere three years. Developing a crush on the older boy was probably inevitable, as was keeping it a secret. However, year after year, he found himself unable to grow out of this 'phase.' With maturation at a standstill, his only option was to move and hope for a positive vector._

* * *

Momentum

By SSBBSwords

* * *

_Boyfriend… __**boy**__friend or friend-that-is-a-boy?_ Unconnected thoughts swirled through Ike's mind (_whatwhenhow__**really?**__)_. Expression unchecked, it settled into a mix of bemusement and horror. His mouth opened to respond with _something_ (anything!), but nothing came out except for a choked off syllable.

_This can't be happening._ Why can't it be happening? Because Marth was _Marth._ Marth didn't have an attachment. Marth was always _un_attached. Single. Because…

_Because he's __**gay**__? _His shock continued to grow as his mind jumped around to find support for his hypothesis.

This discovery should have thrilled Ike. _Should. _This crush had been shoved into a dark, dusty corner after five-some years of existence because he was 100% sure nothing could be done about it. Yet, somehow, Ike felt no different. In fact, he felt _worse._

Now he was 110% sure nothing could be done about it. Marth had a _boyfriend._ The title continued to reverberate in his core, wiping out any smidgen of hope.

While Ike battled with the brewed chaos in his mind, he nearly missed the unamused look on Marth's face.

However, no one missed Marth nonchalantly removing Link's arm from around his shoulders. "No one is going to find that joke funny here, Link."

Ike's eyebrows furrowed, his expression now morphing into all confusion. He was still speechless, which fortunately did not matter, since the two college students were now discussing the issue heatedly. Well, Marth sounded miffed. Link seemed… happy. Wasn't the blond just rejected?

"Aw, come on. How could I pass on such a perfect opportunity?" the blond asked innocently, shrugging with his palms up as if to indicate that he had nothing to hide.

"I don't appreciate the insinuation," Marth countered with a frown, "It's not as accepted as you think."

"It's just _Ike,_" Link stressed with a roll of his blue eyes, "The way you talk about him, you trust him, don't you?"

Marth shot the silent high school senior a tense glance before returning to the argument at hand. "He looks _traumatized_…"

"I'm sure he can take a _joke_, Marth," the blond responded dryly. His voice contained a strain of bitterness.

Ike suddenly felt like an intervention was necessary. The issue seemed to be slowly escalating, and the body language of both college students was beginning to look less than friendly. Besides, Ike still felt on edge, despite Marth's immediate correction of Link's words. Were the two actually dating under the guise of 'friends'? Or did Link simply have a sense of humor that this town had not seen before?

So he forced his best good-natured laugh in hopes of breaking the tension. "Wow, you got me! Link… you a theatre major or something?"

The blond re-focused on him with a slight smile, which Ike deemed to be more faked than real. "No… but I might as well be."

_Implying what? _Ike shook his head lightly to dislodge the multiple unanswered questions spinning in his brain. This impromptu introduction had gone from good to overwhelmingly dark in a matter of minutes. He needed to get away from this uncomfortable situation as fast as possible.

"I have to head back… but it was great meeting you," Ike stumbled with his words, unsure if he should make some excuse or if that would make it all the more obvious that he was desperately trying to escape.

"Yeah…" Link replied absently, gazing calculatingly at Marth instead. "See you later."

Marth would not look at any of them, and murmured what probably was a farewell along with brief wave before swiftly weaving back through the dark room and shutting off the television. Then he disappeared down the hall, presumably seeking privacy. Meanwhile, after a beat, Link followed with a determined look on his face.

Ike let himself out and hoped it would all be okay… whatever _it_ was.

* * *

Ike collapsed sideways on his bed the moment he got home. What in the world just happened? Feeling restless, he then sat upright, swinging his legs over the edge and grimaced at the dizziness that followed the sudden movement. He pinched the space between his shut eyes, trying to shake the dismay from seeing a couple's fight. Well, the idea that Marth was one part of a 'couple' was doing a number on Ike's emotions.

He glanced out his window, wishing he could see through the fence and walls and into the other's mind for the sake of clarity. What were they doing now? Still arguing or making up? Would they make up as friends or as… the other option? He found himself suddenly resisting the urge to run back over to the next house to check.

Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and prepared to deal with this as best he could. Obviously he was bothered by the ambiguity. There was no point running through scenarios when he could simply ask Marth for the truth. Not that he had any business in the matter, but… but what? Could he make an excuse as to why he should be granted this information?

He could come clean himself. Admit to liking, crushing, no… _wanting_ Marth ever since he could recognize what he was feeling. Okay, yes, this seemed plausible. It sounded a little carnal and desperate when he thought about it, and that made him panic. Somehow this sort of confession should be properly executed, with flawlessly eloquent lines. He still sometimes couldn't overcome the awkward feeling when he was with Marth. How was he supposed to wax poetry?

"Okay, maybe I don't want to do that," Ike whispered to himself. In the empty bedroom, the only response he could hear was the lulling chirp of a bird outside in the yard.

He reached for his backpack, where he left his cell phone. Maybe he could farm out for help. He easily found Roy's name, hesitated for about two seconds, and quickly composed a text.

'_I need some advice.'_

Not surprisingly, within a minute, his best friend had replied with an enthusiastic '_Figures! Gym in 15?'_

'_Ok.'_

In the allotted time, Ike had changed, grabbed his gym bag, and jogged to the fitness center. He found the redhead easily, and Roy smirked at him before asking, "Girl problems?"

"No." They set up for their typical routine, starting with the bench press. Ike began first, lying on his back on the bench and firmly gripping the bar.

"Stop lying. I could drop this on you," his best friend, acting as spotter, cheekily threatened with his grin still in place.

"Not exactly," Ike grumbled in return, finding it much more relaxing to focus on lifting rather than explaining. The redhead stayed silent, expecting Ike to give in and just spit it out. It worked well, and soon enough, Ike was blurting out, "It's Marth."

There was a long silent pause. Ike was pleasantly surprised that Roy actually realized the gravity of his statement. Roy took a slow, deep breath, and then looking very grave, said, "So he _is_ a girl."

"_Roy!_"

The redhead dissolved into chuckling. "Sorry, sorry! I'm listening, really!"

With a sigh, Ike finished his repetitions and sat back up, rolling his shoulders. "I… well, I'm not sure, but I think he's dating."

"Is this a gossip session?" Roy deadpanned, "Because, seriously—"

"—No, I mean, I met some friend of his from college. The guy introduces himself as Marth's… uh, boyfriend."

"Wait, _what?_" Roy exclaimed, eyes wide as golf balls. Ike was just glad he had finished or else Roy really would have dropped the heavy bar on him.

"Yeah. That was weird, but then it gets weirder. Marth's not too happy—"

"—Hah, who would be?" his friend interrupted with a short laugh.

"Tried to pass it off as a joke, but it sure didn't feel like it," Ike finished, standing up to switch places with Roy.

His friend sat down on the vacated bench, but did not lie down. A thoughtful expression crossed his face. "Ike… thanks for the story, but why exactly do you need _advice_? Sounds like Marth has possible pseudo-relationship problems of the possible… uhm, gay flavor, but why should you care? You're not exactly homophobic."

At this point, Ike stilled Roy's reps and guided the bar back into rest position. "Because I like him."

Suddenly his best friend was doing a great impression of a statue. Finally, the redhead blinked owlishly, still lying horizontal and staring at him as if he had just sprouted two heads. Or began speaking in a foreign language. Or…

"Oh." Roy seemed to finally get his vocal chords working. "Man, good thing you put that bar away. Definitely would have dropped it."

* * *

As a best friend, Roy had no qualms about inviting himself over to Ike's, and so the two high school seniors ended up bearing witness to Marth and (boy?)friend exchanging goodbyes. Apparently the blond had made a solo day-drive to visit Marth, and was headed back to the university already. Did that signify… significance? As if reading his taller friend's mind, Roy punched Ike's arm none-too-gently. "Stop thinking."

They should have walked into the house by now, but Roy began to feign texting and gestured for Ike to fake interest. They stayed in the front yard long enough to watch Link give the other college student a hug before climbing into his car and pulling away from the curb with a wave.

"Okay, inside. _Inside!_" Roy hissed, colliding ungracefully when he tried to hastily retreat into the house.

Ike numbly followed. After all, he had the keys.

Once they were inside, Ike glanced over, curious for Roy's assessment. "So…?"

"I don't know," his best friend admitted with somewhat of a defeated shrug, "I didn't get any… you know, dating vibes. I mean, I didn't get creeped out or anything."

Ike raised an eyebrow. "Wait, what?" He studied his friend's uncomfortable expression and asked incredulously, "You would get _creeped out_ if they were gay?"

"No, no, no, no, no!" Roy quickly tried to correct the misunderstanding. "Not 'cause it would be _gay_. Watching PDA is just awkward. I feel like a creepy voyeur, that's all."

"Oh." Ike released a breath that he did not even know he was holding. Actually, he still was a bit surprised that Roy was taking this all into stride so well. He thought he would get a lot more degrading remarks about being attracted to another guy.

Roy huffed, blowing his bangs off his forehead long enough for them to stick up at random angles. "That's why I mutter about couples in the hallways all the time. I'm not angry and bitter, but I feel weird being _there_ when they should—I don't know—get some privacy?"

Nodding to briefly indicate agreement, Ike could not stop the next question from rolling out of his mouth. "They hugged…?"

"Ye-e-e-eah… you're right!" Roy seemed to seriously consider this observation as a piece of evidence. "I don't plan to hug you when I leave today. I don't even know if I'll hug you when you graduate. Hey, you're not feeling neglected are you? Want a hug?"

Laughing at his best friend's antics, Ike acted his part and pushed away the redhead's attempt of TLC. "No, thanks."

Roy huffed dramatically and crossed his arms. "Bet you wouldn't have said no if _Marth_ offered."

Ike felt his face warm up and found himself speechless. His expression settled in between mortified and scandalized.

"I know, I know. You would have said no too," Roy finished with a smirk, inwardly ecstatic to have some real substance to tease his friend about. He paused and studied Ike like a lab specimen. Then, as if he was forming the idea as he spoke, he carefully asked, "Assuming they _are_ going out, are you… would you plan to, I don't know… _do_ something about it?"

Ike tried to play the scenario out in his mind. Would he take initiative and—"Uh, what would 'something' be?"

The only response he got was a genuine shrug.

"And assuming they _aren't_ going out and that I'm simply hallucinating here, I would never ask Marth out. So _no_, I would not plan to do anything," Ike finished with a frown, more to convince himself of his conviction and less his frustration.

Strangely enough, his best friend looked exasperated above any other emotion. "I thought you'd say that," Roy finally stated with a sigh, "It's no wonder you're single."

"Look who's talking," Ike retorted, his unhappiness growing at an inexplicable rate and thereby making him a bit snappy.

As if expecting this level of irritation, Roy let the jab slide and unfalteringly continued, "Say you ask him out—"

"—which I won't."

"Hypothetically, of course. Worst thing that can happen?"

Mulling this over, Ike surprised even himself when he answered rather quickly, "He says no and never talks to me again?"

"Oh." Roy blinked. "That sounds… sort of benign."

Ike sat up straighter and repeated his own words silently to himself. He came to the grand epiphany that Roy was… well, sort of right.

"_Plus_, this is _Marth. _Worst thing you'll get is a stern lecture on propriety or something."

* * *

He was losing it. He was definitely losing it.

All he could do was grip the doorknob tighter as his arm mechanically held the door open for his older neighbor to cross the threshold.

"_Hi Ike. Do you have some time?"_ Marth had asked, appearing oh-so-casually on his doorstep.

"… _Sure._" He had hoped the college student did not catch his hesitation.

And now the guy was sitting in his kitchen with a glass of water between his hands like a contemporary messenger of bad news. Ike felt faint. He should probably sit. So he did.

"When are you heading out?" Ike began conversationally and belatedly realized that he probably should have grabbed a drink for himself so that his fidgeting would be less obvious. Unfortunately, nothing would incriminate him more than getting up right after he sat down. So he stayed seated and fought the urge to squirm.

"Soon," Marth replied softly, and then followed up quickly as if realizing how cryptic he sounded, "Probably in an hour. After traffic."

"So, uhm…" The panic was beginning to grow. _What was he supposed to say?_

The other rotated the glass about ninety degrees before lifting his eyes to lock with the high school senior's gaze. "I'm sorry, Ike."

_What? Why?_ Ike was not quite sure what to say. Why did the atmosphere feel so heavy all of a sudden?

"I was rude the other day. I also apologize for Link. He—" Marth paused to think of a fitting description. "—Has a tendency to speak carelessly."

The way that was so carefully worded was setting alarm bells off in his head. Ike swallowed heavily. Was there some sort of correct reply to this? "Don't worry about it." The reassuring tone inflected through his statement sounded foreign to his own ears, but Ike continued as if on autopilot, "Roy once told coach we went shopping together. Often. It was awkward."

It was relieving to hear Marth laugh at his anecdote for Friends-Say-The-Stupidest-Things.

"Very awkward."

Ike searched the other's face for signs of discomfort. There was none. His anxiety was probably (as usual) one-sided. His fingers curled tightly against the edges of his seat. "Is Link… always like that?"

The dark look that flitted across the other's face caused Ike to widen his own eyes in surprise. _What kind of reaction was that?_

"Yes. Always," Marth replied shortly, and a very neutral mask slipped into place. "Quite a character."

"Sorry," Ike hurriedly offered, "Sensitive subject. Right?"

Like a balloon deflating, his neighbor's shoulders slumped, completely ruining the perfect posture the other typically possessed. Marth straightened again and sighed, "Unfortunately."

It was time to stop denying the obvious. The strange meeting, the vague way of speaking, these atypical reactions…

"You really _are_ dating him, aren't you?" Ike hoped his insight sounded like he could care less, but in his own head, he could hear strands of incredulity and disappointment. In a way, he knew this already. He knew the answer. It was be—

"No."

Huh?

Marth reaffirmed rather stoically, "I am not."

"Wh-_what?_" Ike's mouth fell open. Now this was getting rather ridiculous. "You're joking." _It's sort of __**obvious**__. So obvious that even __**I**__ can tell._ _That's __**really**__ obvious._

"Do I ever?"

Ike raised an eyebrow. With the dam broken, he was going to get his questions answered. That meant _all _of them, and so he impetuously asked, "What the _hell_ is going on?" Oops. He mentally winced. He did not mean to sound so angry, even if he felt it. "Sorry." Ike ran a hand over his face to massage away the tension. "I'm not sure where that came from."

Eyes downcast and hidden beneath his palm, Ike only heard the other's chair slide back and soon enough, Marth was standing next to him, hand on his shoulder. "I don't mean to hide things from you, Ike. But…I don't believe you need to know. I just came by to apologize for my rudeness."

"I think I deserve an explanation then," Ike resolutely stated, pulling away from his stressed hunch and giving Marth his full, undivided attention.

Marth bit his bottom lip and looked away for a second. He ran a hand through his hair nervously. "I'm not dating." It was like Marth was trying to convince himself of his own words. "I'm not."

"Fine. What's _Link_'s deal then?" He knew he was straddling the line between bullying and wheedling, but there had to be some breaking point.

"He's… not exactly a friend," Marth admitted with some sort of internal struggle.

"Boyfriend," Ike supplied the title for his crush, even though his chest hurt to do so.

Marth shook his head. Again with the denial. Ike frowned.

"No. Roommate. Classmate. Coworker."

"You're confusing me," Ike interjected, hoping his honesty will pull some out of his neighbor.

Closing his eyes, Marth took a deep breath.

"He likes me. That's all."

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**__ Thanks for surviving the read! TBC…? _


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Notes: **__I wish I knew where this was going. If you see any discrepancies between chapters, please let me know!_

_**Warnings:**__ Yaoi, shounen-ai, slash, whatever you call it. Don't like, don't read._

_**Pairing(s):**__ IkeMarth. Background noise._

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Super Smash Brothers._

_**Summary: **They had been together since birth, separated by a mere three years. Developing a crush on the older boy was probably inevitable, as was keeping it a secret. However, year after year, he found himself unable to grow out of this 'phase.' With maturation at a standstill, his only option was to move and hope for a positive vector._

* * *

Momentum

By SSBBSwords

* * *

In the midst of the hallway clamor, the sound of books crashing onto the floor was lost. Fortunately, so was Roy's rather loud curse.

As the redhead scrambled to straighten out bent spines and scattered worksheets, Ike put away his last four periods' worth of books into his locker in lieu of making any comment about his best friend's reaction to his news. If Roy was late one more time to first period, the redhead would be spending another afternoon in detention.

Standing back up with a twisted expression of annoyance as the objects in his arms threatened to commit unsuccessful suicide onto the floor again, Roy huffed and reshuffled the books so that they stacked more evenly. "Stop doing that!"

Not even bothering to hide his laugh, Ike gestured to Roy's predicament jokingly. "Me or your calculus book?"

"Ha ha ha," the other senior enunciated sardonically, using said offensive textbook and hitting Ike's arm unceremoniously as retribution. "So what did you do? Stand there dumbly as you always do?"

"I was sitting," Ike shot back, a bit smug because he was able to rub a wrong in Roy's face, as inconsequential as it was.

The redhead rolled his eyes and closed Ike's locker with a mock scowl. "Oh, you think you're so clever. So then?"

Ike brushed off the tone of patronization and finished answering Roy's original question. "I said, '_Oh, I see,_' and there was a great, big awkward moment, and he said, '_Well, now you know. Again, sorry for the other day,'_ and left."

"You two have the most scintillating conversations. How have you _not_ jumped hi—_er_ yet?" his friend smoothed out the pronoun after he became aware of the proximity of other high school students to them. It was nearing the end of their senior year; drama was the last thing they needed.

Shrugging off the other's sarcasm, Ike explained, "I'm never going to tell… her. Well, I highly doubt I will." Insert a shrug. "Our… uhm, relationship already feels… _strained_. And it's as platonic as it gets. Platonic and strained."

"Maybe you're misinterpreting it," Roy offered wisely. "Maybe it's sexual tension," he subsequently added unwisely.

Ike wrinkled his nose like the suggestion was unsavory. "I doubt it. I think I would know…"

Roy burst out laughing. "You wouldn't know it if it was a football that hit you in the face!"

"Hey, I resent that!"

"Resent all you want," Roy nonchalantly replied as he winked at a passing gaggle of sophomore girls who burst into heated whispers as they crossed paths, "Did you know those newbie cheerleaders are all trying to go to prom with you?"

Ike's eyebrows nearly shot to his hairline. "Huh? What? You're kidding, right?" The glance he threw over his shoulder was in no way covert, and he caught all the girls' intense stares right back at him, before they swiftly turned back the other way, giggling madly. He swallowed nervously. "Oh, crap. You're not kidding?"

"I would face palm right now if I could," was all Roy said in return, with an exasperated shake of his head, "You're a bit of an idiot. You know _that_ at least, right? Please say yes."

Frowning, Ike returned his full attention to the problem at hand. "Okay, fine, you know everything, but I still don't think there's any sexual tension. I mean… for there to be tension, something's got to be pulled tightly and changing… length…"

He trailed off as the possible insinuation dawned on him, and his best friend guffawed shamelessly by his side. "Oh, you dirty, Ike. Philosophy made pornographic by physics." Roy grinned and shot Ike a knowing smirk. "Now I'm _positive _your 'relationship' problem is _tension-_related."

His metaphorical attempt to support his own defense had failed. He closed his eyes and pinched the area between his eyes to relieve the growing pressure in his head. "That is not what I meant."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Roy patted him sympathetically on the back. "Actually, here's an idea. Why don't you take your angst-ridden sexual—oops—_static_ tension and convert it into something more proactive like… hmm, applied force? Oh, maybe if you obtain some charm, you can use gravitational force!"

"You're suggesting that I get over myself and make a move, right?"

Punctuated with an emphatic nod, the redhead stopped in the middle of the hallway and posed, not unlike a superhero declaring triumph over injustice. "Absolutely! You must _accelerate!_"

Momentarily struck dumb by the comic scene his friend had enthusiastically created, Ike recovered long enough to grip the other's forearm to initiate traveling toward first period again. "Roy…"

"Yes?"

"Somehow, your straight A's suddenly make sense now."

* * *

The thing about collecting community service hours without being a member of an on-campus service club meant Ike volunteered at a lot of unrelated weekend events. His previous experiences ranged from food banks to homeless centers. He liked community service, since he enjoyed feeling useful. However, the thought of the next event was making him slightly sick to his stomach.

"…_the check-in desk will be at the entrance. Make sure you get the waiver signed by one of your parents. Once you turn that in, you should get a _white_ volunteer wristband..."_

The nauseous feeling was probably just exaggerated butterflies. Taking a calming breath, he twirled the pen that he kept between his fingers after writing down the address of the marathon that the university was hosting.

"…_Ike? Hello?"_

"Hmm?" Rather belatedly, he realized he had been silent for the entire set of instructions.

"_Oh, I thought the spotty reception in my apartment had cut out again." _Marth sounded relieved on the other line. _"So, any questions about Saturday?"_

"N…not really," the high school senior answered reluctantly—he wished he had prepared more topics so he could keep the other on the phone. "Uhm… should I leave my house at five or five-thirty?"

With a short laugh, Marth responded, _"There's no traffic that early in the morning; five-thirty should be fine. Are you _sure_ you want the earliest shift?_"

"Yeah, I like setting up things. Plus, since I'll be done before noon, I can scope out the campus," Ike reasoned.

"_Oh! You haven't made your decision yet…" _The older student sounded thoughtful, his mind probably working on overdrive as he considered Ike's options for him. "_Well, you should really visit the university during a weekday, like Monday! Definitely sit in on some of the lectures, maybe even go to some professors' office hours. Talk to some club recruiters or student advisors…" _Marth suggested, his tone changing from completely certain to slightly hesitant when he started considering the time obligation. _"Hmm, you would definitely need a whole day."_

Ike's head swirled as he received a hefty second serving of information over the phone. Unprepared as he tended to be, he quietly sat there with his cell to his ear, in awe at how the older boy managed to cover all the bases for him, even when Ike himself did not even know he was in the game.

"_You know what? Why don't you spend the weekend here? I can give you a campus tour on Monday if you want, but I can also show you around places outside of school where college students often convene," _offered Marth, then added with a touch of amusement, _"After all, academics is only a fraction of the college experience."_

Crush or not, this would be a practical experience, since he had to choose his college at some point. However, his heart leapt like an excited puppy before a walk, and Ike was strongly reminded of how he felt when he was younger, knowing the older boy would be coming home soon. If he decided to do this, he would have nearly three whole days in the other's company.

Tamping down the urge to eagerly accept the other's proposal, Ike tried to convey a semblance of respectability in a jumble of broken sentences. "But… I... really? Can I? Aren't you—I mean—wouldn't it just be troublesome for you? You're… you must be busy…"

There was a light sigh from the other line. _"You've known me for seventeen years now. Would I really ask if I couldn't deliver?"_

Ike sensed this to be a rhetorical question and chose to waive the obvious answer. "Well, I don't want you to feel… I don't know… obligated to help me."

"… _Ike,"_ Marth began, with a deliberate slowness to provide solemnity to his next words, _"Yes, our parents are best friends. Yes, we grew up together. But _no, _I will never feel obligated towards you."_

Unsure of his interpretation of the underlying tone of the other's voice (bitter? gloomy? impassive?), Ike rushed into a sloppy apology, "No, I'm sorry! I didn't mean—"

"—_Shhh,"_ Marth reprimanded quickly, which effectively halted Ike like it would have years ago, _"Calm down…"_

Successfully chastised, the high school senior sunk lower at his desk as if the older boy could pick up his repentant vibes just by the silent action alone.

"_I want you to come visit me,"_ the other concluded, his typical soft-spoken manner laced with a soothing lull that must have been designed to lift the heavy weight off of Ike's shoulders. _"Okay?"_

* * *

Although he had dutifully agreed to spending the weekend, Ike had very few ideas of what would appear on the agenda. There was probably plenty to do on Monday, and if he backtracked, he knew what his Saturday morning looked like, but other than that, he felt lost and unprepared. He had packed a small duffle bag with changes of clothing and toiletries in a very short time, but then spent the rest of the hour debating whether to bring his school work. There was the possibility that he would get very little done over the weekend; therefore it would be a waste to cart the heavy textbooks and binders back and forth between locations.

Roy had listened carefully during their lunch break on Friday before advising: _Bring your school stuff._ After all, this weekend was not meant to be a vacation, and theoretically, college students had to study at some point too. The main point was to not create more stress on the host, which Ike would be doing if he showed up sans some work to complete.

Parking was surprisingly easy to find when he arrived on the street full of apartment buildings, and he made a note to ask Marth about this odd phenomenon. As he waited for Marth to meet him and open the door that led into the lobby, his heartbeat skipped a beat when the older boy appeared in his peripheral with a small wave.

"Hello."

His hand tightened around the strap of his bag as if that would anchor him in reality. Since his time spent with Marth was marginal at best, Ike often found himself rather entranced by the first sighting of the college student. Today was no different, and he was pleased to absorb and store away the visual of Marth in a gray sweater and dark slacks. It wasn't so much the ensemble that he appreciated; he just enjoyed the way the clothes fit and outlined the other's slighter frame. It never failed to make him want to engulf the older boy in a hug.

Which Marth actually ended up doing in the time that he spent standing there like a statue. It was a brief one-armed squeeze across his shoulders, just above his backpack.

"You look tired. This way," the other simply stated, before leading the way toward a flight of stairs just around the building's corner where he must have originally used to arrive.

Once they crossed the threshold, Ike set his belongings on the couch that would fold out into a bed for the duration of his stay. As he got a quick tour of the two-bedroom, two-bath apartment with a living room and kitchen, he ended up paused in the middle of Marth's bedroom. With two beds and desks, the room had a certain compact feel to it. There was only enough free space for some pacing.

"… I feel kind of…" _claustrophobic,_ Ike wanted to say, but he trailed off hesitantly. He didn't quite know what to do with his own body placement in this room.

The vague expression that crossed the other's face was something akin to understanding. "The idea of roommates will do that to you, especially since we always had our own rooms growing up. Here, sit." Marth took a seat on a bed, patting the area beside him. Once the younger boy was seated on the comfortable mattress next to him, Marth asked, "Feel better?"

Ike scanned the room again. Locking eyes with Marth, whose hips were less than a foot from his own, Ike exhaled shakily. "A bit, yes."

"You'll get used to it. You're sharing space with someone else, but you still have your own boundaries," Marth explained, trying to pull together some consoling words that would help Ike through the future process of living with a roommate.

"I… don't get it?"

"Hm..." the older boy hummed as he grasped for a more concrete example. "It's like living in a house, but on a smaller scale. You share space with your parents, but you mostly stay in areas such as your room and probably never step into your parents' room, right?" Here, Ike gave a nod, so Marth continued, "I sleep here and work at my desk, but never touch Link's. Does that make sense?" Another nod. "Hopefully you get a good roommate, one that respects your boundaries."

Blurting out childishly, Ike asked, "Is Link…?"

"He's great," Marth quickly replied, his answer sounding genuine. "I can tell you bad roommate stories from other people, but I've roomed with Link since freshman year. He's… good."

_But…_ if Ike's memory served him correctly, there was an underlying issue that _had _to be exacerbated by the fact that these two were in constant close proximity. "Even... even though he… you know…"

Marth smiled ruefully at the younger boy's fragmented allusion. "Likes me? He certainly doesn't harass me about it though."

"Oh… I thought… maybe it was…" What adjective would Ike use for the previous encounter with the blond? "Well, you seemed upset before."

"I had my reasons."

With that cryptic remark, Marth pointed to the clock sitting on the adjacent desk and asked where Ike wanted to go for dinner.

* * *

_**Author's Notes: **__TBC…?_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Notes: **__I need some force divided by mass…_

_**Warnings: **__Yaoi, shounen-ai, slash, whatever you call it. Don't like, don't read._

_**Pairing(s): **__IkeMarth. Background noise._

_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Super Smash Brothers._

_**Summary: **They had been together since birth, separated by a mere three years. Developing a crush on the older boy was probably inevitable, as was keeping it a secret. However, year after year, he found himself unable to grow out of this 'phase.' With maturation at a standstill, his only option was to move and hope for a positive vector._

* * *

Momentum

By SSBBSwords

* * *

Dinner on Friday had passed rather uneventfully. That was not to say that Ike had been expecting bells and whistles of any memorable sort. It simply meant that the time he and Marth spent wandering the shops and restaurants that were within twenty minutes walking distance of the apartments went smoothly without any hiccups. Yes, Ike meant hiccups euphemistically. In his paranoid mind, he had imagined himself practically non-functional in any given scenario.

As usual, he needed to rein in his anxiety. He figured he was giving away nothing on the surface, since Marth had not mentioned any oddities in his behavior, but he could not count that as a triumph yet. He needed to keep up this guise of normalcy for three days first.

He did like the neighborhood though, especially the smaller streets with little eateries catering to the more outdoor-friendly, quick-dining experience. He could not resist proclaiming this barbeque joint as his new favorite place to eat, which made Marth smile at his enthusiasm for the bargain-priced, large plates of meat that the menu offered.

They argued over the bill quite like their parents did when they dined together. Ike's defense was that Marth was already housing him for three nights, and Marth's defense was that the youngest was never to pay. Fine points on either side, but it all came down to who would be swifter with the server.

Ike was surprised that he managed to hold out his credit card to the waitress before Marth. In games of speed, Ike never won. His surprise must have shown, and his only clue that something was about to go wrong was the slight twitch in the corner of the other's lips. With the fluidity of a cat, the older boy nonchalantly intercepted the exchange between Ike and the server by plucking Ike's card out from betwixt his fingers.

"Here, take mine." Marth smiled charmingly at the woman, who grinned in return, probably having seen this type of battle of wills throughout her years of service. She hustled away to swipe the card as Ike's jaw dropped. _TRICKY. And not. fair._

The college student looked as close to smug as his personality would allow it. "Don't disrespect your elders, Ike."

Speechless, the younger boy closed his mouth and tried again. Still nothing.

Receiving his card back with the receipts, Marth quickly filled out the calculations and signed his name elegantly on the bottom line before continuing to tease, "Good luck trying to best me on this matter."

"I… I feel awful," Ike mumbled back miserably, "I'm so rude."

"Oh, don't be like that," the older boy chided, as they both stood up to leave, "It's—"

"—Promise me that I get the next one," Ike interrupted with assertion, "Seriously!"

"Okay."

_What, really?_ That was almost too simple. Ike felt considerably better with the other's agreement, and relief settled in his body.

"There's a famous ice cream shop around the corner," Marth concluded, the only thing belying his amusement was the brightness in his eyes, "You're buying."

_Wait, what? That wasn't quite what he mea_—Ike's thoughts were derailed as the shorter boy tugged him in the opposite direction.

Half an hour later as they walked home, content with the unique ice cream flavors that they chose after standing in line at the popular dessert establishment, Ike made a mental note that he should just give up trying to out-ruse Marth. There were obviously some ingenuity advantages of being older.

"Is that good?" Ike asked, eyeing the other's vanilla-colored scoop curiously. He had limited his sampling to flavors that were close to common and had settled on a stout-infused chocolate flavor.

Marth glanced up at him, pausing mid-lick, before sweeping a tongue along the edge where ice cream met cone to catch any drips. Ike suddenly realized watching the other eat ice cream was a terrible idea, but could not look away even if he tried. In fact, he was starting to wish he was a slow-churned dairy product.

"Yes, it reminds me of Thanksgiving soup… but chilled and sweet," Marth informed, lifting the cone up to Ike's mouth for a taste of the corn-flavored ice cream; a flavor that Ike had skipped simply because he found the idea too bizarre. After all, he tended to associate corn with a creamy or salty pairing, especially since Marth's mother _did_ make a corn-based soup for the November holiday.

Bending at the waist to take a tentative taste, Ike straightened and licked the remnants off his bottom lip. "So weird for it to be sweet."

"I know, but it reminds me of home," the older boy explained, and with an inaudible sigh, resolutely returned his attention to managing the gradual melts of ice cream again.

Sensing the subtle shift in mood, Ike gently bumped his arm against the other's shoulder. "Hey, come home more."

"No, it's not that." Marth was trying to deny the somber turnaround. "Sometimes I just… never mind."

_Never mind?_ Now a bit torn between suspicion and worry, Ike nibbled at his cone to prevent himself from mouthing off.

"I'm glad you're here though," was all the older student said, before absent-mindedly crossing the street, leaving Ike desperately hoping that Marth wasn't planning to make a habit of not checking for oncoming cars.

* * *

Early next morning, Ike found himself wishing he could have another uneventful day. He and Marth had gone to bed fairly early so to rise in time for the morning marathon; Marth as one of the event coordinators and Ike as a volunteer.

What had fully shocked Ike as he sat at the small table that served as the apartment's dining area spooning cereal into his mouth was Link sauntering out of the shared bedroom. The blond grinned at the younger boy's dumbstruck expression, and with energy unbefitting the 5:17 AM display on the digital clock on the counter, exclaimed, "Good morning! Hi, Ike!"

Chewing long enough to swallow his current mouthful of cereal, Ike coughed to clear his throat, voice not yet used this morning (he had just silently accepted the most convenient food option that Marth offered; he hadn't wanted to inconvenience Marth this early in the morning by asking for a cooked breakfast). "Hey." His greeting actually was more a grunt than a fully enunciated word. Ike could hear the grumble in his own voice. Well, better that than surprise, he supposed.

Looking much too bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for this time of day, Link began to rifle through the cabinets and pull out an assortment of food. The blond tackled the job of assembling breakfast with precision that admittedly awed Ike, who finally noticed the other's attire.

"You're…" Ike cleared his throat when the beginning of his sentence came out too scratchy. "… You're running in the marathon?"

Awake enough to slice a banana without needing much visual focus, Link threw the high school senior a wink. "Absolutely! How else would I have an excuse to watch Marth yell at scores of hapless people to do his bidding?"

Here, Marth looked up from the newspaper and finally acknowledged his roommate with a deadpan look. "Must you start so early in the day with your tall tales?"

"But of course!" Link teased, decorating a thick spread of peanut-butter on top of bread with the fresh fruit. "Just for you, baby."

With a light scoff, Marth returned to ignoring his roommate in favor of reading.

"You run often?" Ike asked, curious as to whether or not the blond's sole purpose at the marathon was to be near Marth. It was a bitter thought that Link would chose such a committed gesture with romantic intent toward Marth, although Ike would be angry if anyone chose to do anything less in pursuit for his long-time crush.

"Only since I was born," Link joked, taking the plate with his sandwich on it to the table where he sat across from Ike and adjacent to Marth. "I was the crazy little kid running around that needed to be tranquilized if my parents needed a break."

Without even breaking his rhythm, Marth took a sip of tea, eyes still on the paper's text, and interjected, "Link grew up doing cross-country throughout his secondary education. Now he just does long-distance for fun."

Taking a voracious bite of bread, peanut butter, and banana, Link still managed a close-lipped, cheerful smile while chewing the mouthful of food. Once he swallowed, he poked Marth playfully. "You don't have to brag about me. I can do that myself."

"Trust me, I know," the other college student monotonously replied, subconsciously batting away the blonde distraction.

Ike was having trouble interpreting whether or not this entire interaction was fundamentally built on amicable banter, flirtatious teasing, or strategic passive-aggressiveness. He wondered if it was a dysfunctional hybrid of all three.

Untroubled by his roommate's lack of reaction, Link turned attentively back to Ike. "So-o-o, you were completely knocked out by the time I got home. What did you two _do_ last night?" The blond punctuated his insinuation with an eyebrow lift.

The meaning was not lost on Ike, who choked on his juice. Fortunately, he managed to clear his airway before anything worse could happen. The tacit implication was enough to cause a subtle flush across his cheeks (especially since he was guilty of likening Friday's happenings to the cliché date setup), and he had a bad feeling that the expression that presently crossed Link's face meant that he had been found out. No, he was still at risk of asphyxiation, since all he wanted to do now was crawl under the table and hide.

At the high school senior's sound of distress, Marth had looked up, his gaze first landing on his roommate, sharp and judgmental. However, when shifting over to assess how Ike was doing, the look turned into one of uncertainty. In short, Marth looked confused as to Ike's current predicament. Nonetheless, ever in Ike's defense, Marth sounded nothing but firmly exasperated at Link. "_What _are you doing?"

Like a thrown switch, the blond pulled on an Oscar-winning pout. "Just making conversation."

Shaking his head, Marth called his roommate's bluff. "I told you last night when you came home. Did you have to antagonize Ike for the same summary?"

Looking thoughtful, Link set down his sandwich, eyes rolling upward to emphasize his utmost consideration of the question. "Why, yes. It's important to be inclusive. How would he feel if he knew we talked about him nonstop behind his back?" As if to prove his point further, the blond locked eyes with Ike before addressing him. "Not literally, of course. Only when you aren't around or conscious."

There was the sound of cracking ceramic, and a heartbeat later, Marth dropped the broken mug's handle onto the tabletop. Eyes blazing furiously, the college student brusquely hauled his blond roommate to his feet and yanked the runner out of the room with him.

* * *

He wanted to take back everything he had said before. About the strain and whatever melodramatic teenage exaggeration he had claimed a week ago to Roy.

_This_ was the epitome of tension. And as grateful as he was to _not_ be the direct recipient, he still felt somewhat involved. As to exactly how, he would have to figure that out later.

About twenty minutes later, Marth had re-emerged, looking much less angry, but still retaining an aura of irritation. As planned, he and Ike headed off to the marathon site on campus to begin setting up. Ike would be finished before noon; Marth would be finished sometime early afternoon, since he was overseeing the event from start to finish.

Ike did not see Link until a good two hours later when he caught a glimpse of the blond signing in. He would occasionally see Marth migrating from one station to another, cell phone and clipboard always in use, and deemed the older boy in his element, despite what happened earlier that morning.

After he finished his shift and, more importantly, found the food court in the building that housed the student store, Ike felt his mood improve tenfold after inhaling a large combo meal for lunch. He didn't realize how hungry he was until he started eating.

He had a couple more hours to himself, but he could feel the sluggish call of food coma. Knowing that Roy always managed to keep him awake, Ike took a sip of soda before quickly sending off a text: _'We're at a terrible point in our lives to start a relationship, right?'_

It took a few minutes before his best friend responded: _'Are you referring to the fact that we'll be uprooted in a few months because we're graduating?'_

While he was contemplating whether Roy was asking a rhetorical question or not, the redhead sent another message: '_Are you trying to find an excuse to chicken out?'_

Grimacing at Roy's sixth sense, Ike replied: _'It was a hypothetical question.'_

'_Sure. So how do you like the place? Think you'll go there?'_ Roy was all business. Ironically, Marth's college was top-ranked for Roy's potential major of engineering; the redhead would most likely end up here unless another school came through with more scholarship money. Ike, on the other hand as an undecided major, could not choose a school due to how his future major ranked. _'Aside from the fact that the love of your life is there… think you'll go?'_

Ike was trying to be practical. _'It'd be like high school. One year at the same location. Then he's gone again.'_ And then, as an afterthought: _'Hey, I am not trying to follow Marth to the ends of the earth. He does not factor into my college decision.'_

'_The lord doth protest too much, methinks,' _came Roy's snarky response. '_Bet'cha Marth will stay in school longer. Never mind that. WHAT'S GOING ON?'_

After boiling the past eighteen hours into a succinct sequence of events and sending the story along to Roy, Ike had to wait a good five minutes before he got an indication that his best friend was still alive.

'_Holy shiitake mushrooms, man. This is a mind fsck.'_

For words to even fail the ever verbose Roy, it genuinely must be. A few text exchanges later, they had come to terms that the best course of action was none at all. Analysis of such ambiguous input could only end badly. By now, the last thing Ike wanted to do was contemplate the matter further, and set out to explore some of the campus.

About ninety minutes later in one of the many libraries, he received a text from Marth that informed him that the older boy was finished with the event and that they could walk home together. That, and a nap was the only thing in their foreseeable future, a sentiment that Ike found extremely agreeable at the moment.

Once back at the apartment, Ike had settled onto the rollout couch for all intents and purposes to fall asleep, but he found himself frustratingly awake even after Marth exited the bathroom, carefully toweling wet hair after finishing a quick shower.

"What's wrong?" the older boy asked, concerned. Ike turned his head away from the ceiling and tracked the other's movement until the mattress dipped under Marth's weight as he sat down by Ike's hip.

"Can't sleep."

"It's probably the light." With that educated guess, Marth proceeded to close all curtains and blinds. The dimness did relieve the budding annoyance of being unable to rest properly, but Ike still felt wired, as the room was still decently illuminated. Without a word, Marth had disappeared into his room, only to reappear with what looked like black cloth. It turned out to be a soft, thin shirt. Folding it until it was the approximate shape and length of a blindfold, the college student draped the cloth across Ike's eyes. "How is it?"

_Good… _Ike was surprised by the efficacy of pitch-blackness on his body system. He wondered if this is what pet birds felt like. "Better… thanks."

"You're welcome," Marth replied in his trademark mellow way, sounding rather disembodied since Ike was now in complete darkness. "Feel free to wake me up if I oversleep, okay?"

He felt far removed from everything, his senses muddled. Ah, the drowsiness had finally hit. "'Kay…" Ike felt too lazy to properly reply.

The other's laugh sounded so very dim by now. All he registered now was a flutter of air flow, which he would later discover as a lightweight blanket placed across his abdomen as he slept.

* * *

_**Author's Notes: **__I can't believe I originally thought this would be a one-shot. TBC—(couple more chapters?)!_


End file.
